








1901 



■ 

Ip»l|#* Hi:,!; 

fmw f'Wtf ^H H I H 

■ 
■ ■ 
■ ■ 

■ 

^H ii<!!H':i!i: ■ 



■ ■ 






'<%.■,''■ 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




DD0D311S71S 









■ I ^H ■ I 

■ 

I 










**"*. 
** ^ 







* .0 













/i 







:- 'W. •■ 



^°* 









*• ^ A* ttf^ V <£* ♦>£ JV- ^ ^ 











<^ *; 





« • . 



V*6* 






• ^ A* ^ 













% *^*y . . %"* ; ^ ^' 



.0* V'^V 










*^& *JNM^\ '*++,& 



v^'-:/...\ 



^o* 









t o* ^a,. ♦'Tvf* .a O *••** a<> *b_. •*"; 







S:- ^: 






SCRIBNER'S SERIES OF SCHOOL 
READING. 



In Uniform Binding ; each i2mo, net, 60 Cents. 



A Child's Garden of Verses. By Robert Louis Stevenson. Introduction 

by Lloyd Osbourne. Illustrated. 
The Boy General. By Mrs. George A. Custer and Mary E. Burt. Illustrated. 
The Howells Story Book. By William Dean Howells. Selected and ar- 
ranged by Mary E. Burt. Illustrated by Miss Howells. 
Herakles, the Hero of Thebes, and Other Heroes of the Myth. By Mary 

E. Burt and Zenaide Ragezin. Illustrated. 
Lobo, Rag and Vixen. Selection from " Wild Animals I Have Known." By 

Ernest Seton-Thompson. With 4 full-page and many other illustrations 

from drawings by the Author. 
The Cable Story Book. Selections for School Reading, with the Story of 

the Author's Life. Edited by Mary E. Burt and Lucy Leffingwell Cable. 

Illustrated. 
The Eugene Field Book. Verses, Stories, and Letters for School Reading. 

Edited by Mary E. Burt and Mary B. Cable. Introduction by George W. 

Cable. Illustrated. 

Fanciful Tales. By Frank R. Stockton. Edited by Julia E. Langworthy. 

Introduction by Mary E. Burt. 
The Hoosier School-Boy. By Edward Eggleston. Illustrated. 
Children's Stories in American Literature, 1660-1860. By Henrietta 

C. Wright. 

Children's Stories in American Literature, 1860-1896. By Henrietta C. 
Wright. 

Odysseus, the Hero of Ithaca. By Mary E. Burt. A Translation of the 
Story of Odysseus as used in the Schools of Athens and Berlin. Fully 
Illustrated. 

Poems of American Patriotism. Chosen by Brander Matthews. 
Twelve Naval Captains. By Molly Elliot Seawell. Illustrated. 



c moon- 
hasa- 
face like- 
fhe- 

dock- m 
Ihchall; 




Copyright 1895, by Charles Scribner's Sons. 



A CHILD'S GARDEN OF 
VERSES 



BY 



ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON 



WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY 

LLOYD OSBOURNE 



WITH ILLUSTRATIONS 



> > i i > 



'• » 4 3 9 1 » 



NEW YORK 

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 

1901 






The library of 

CONGRESS, 
Two Oowes Received 

DEC. ? 1901 

0®PVRIQHT ENTRY 

CLASS CX XXc No. 

copy a 



Copyright, 1895 and 1901, by 
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 



Published, November, 1901 



o * t, <i< • e 



THE CAXTON PRESS 
NEW YORK. 



£ ~ 





*■*•& 



QjJ\. the long nights you lay awake 

And watched for my unworthy sake: 
For your most comfortable hand 
That led me through the uneven land: 
For all the story-books you read : 
For all the pains you comforted : 
For all you pitied, all you bore, 
In sad and happy days of yore : — 
My second Mother, My first Wife, 
The angel of my infant life — 
From the sick child, now well and old, 
Take, nurse, the little book you hold! 



•4* 



And grant it, Heaven, that all who read 
May find as dear a nurse at need, 
And every child who lisps my rhyme, 
In the bright, fireside, nursery clime, 
May hear it in as kind a voice 
As made my childish days rejoice! 

R. L. S. 




PAGE 

To Alison Cunningham v 

Introduction xi 

A CHILD'S GARDEN OF VERSES 

Bed in Summer 3 

A Thought 4 

At the Sea-side 4 

Young Night Thought 5 

Whole Duty of Children 5 

Rain 5 

Pirate Story 5 

Foreign Lands 7 

Windy Nights ........ 8 

Travel g 

Singing . . 1 1 

Looking Forward n 

A Good Play 12 

Where Go the Boats ? 13 

Auntie's Skirts 14 

The Land of Counterpane 14 

The Land of Nod 15 

My Shadow 16 

System 16 

vii 



viii Contents 

PAGE 

A Good Boy . 16 

Escape at Bedtime . . . - c . . 19 

Marching Song ........ 20 

The Cow 21 

Happy Thought ........ 21 

The Wind ......... 22 

Keepsake Mill ........ 23 

Good and Bad Children . . . . . .24 

Foreign Children 25 

The Sun's Travels ....... 26 

The Lamplighter ....... 27 

My Bed is a Boat .28 

The Moon 29 

The Swing ......... 30 

Time to Rise ........ 30 

Looking-glass River 31 

Fairy Bread ........ 32 

From a Railway Carriage 32 

Winter-time ........ 33 

The Hayloft ........ 34 

Farewell to the Farm 35 

North-west Passage ....... 36 

1. Good-Night, 36. 

2. Shadow March, 36. 

3. In Port, 37. 

THE CHILD ALONE 

The Unseen Playmate 41 

My Ship and I 42 

My Kingdom 43 



Contents ix 

PAGE 

Picture-books in Winter . 45 

My Treasures ........ 46 

Block City 47 

The Land of Story-books 48 

Armies in the Fire 49 

The Little Land 50 

GARDEN DAYS 

Night and Day 55 

Nest Eggs 57 

The Flowers 59 

Summer Sun 60 

The Dumb Soldier 61 

Autumn Fires ........ 63 

The Gardener 64 

Historical Associations 65 

ENVOYS 

To Willie and Henrietta 69 

To My Mother 70 

To Auntie 70 

To Minnie 71 

To My Name-Child 74 

To Any Reader 76 




^Jtgy/Xfan /joys 




INTRODUCTION 

The "Child's Garden of Verses" was 
written nearly twenty years ago, and its 
publication passed almost unnoticed in the 
flood of new books. It was reviewed, 
praised more or less faintly, and its fate left 
unconcernedly to the decision of the public. 
Little by little, it began to make its unob- 
trusive way into homes and nurseries on 
both sides of the Atlantic. The children 
liked it, talked of it, and lent it to their 
school - fellows. It began to appear on 
Christmas trees ; to bulge little stockings 
hung up for Santa Claus ; to lie with the 
toy trains, soldiers and dolls spread out on 
the birthday morning. Then the fathers 
and mothers, importuned so often to read 
the book aloud, fell themselves under the 
spell of these songs of childhood. It was 



xii Introduction 

seen, in spite of the apparent simplicity and 
artlessness of the verse, that here were in- 
deed poems of a singularly vivid, sincere 
and imaginative quality. And this judg- 
ment, hesitatingly arrived at by tired moth- 
ers beside the nursery cots, by elder sisters, 
by governesses, by nurses in hospitals, by 
fathers sitting with their children in the win- 
ter twilight, became in time confirmed by 
those who had every right to speak with 
authority. 

At the present day there are few books 
that hold so secure a place as the li Child's 
Garden." One edition gives way to another 
with persistent regularity ; and the sales 
from month to month, from year to year, 
show a strange uniformity, as though each 
recurring generation demanded its quota of 
the press. There is hardly a poem in the 
collection that has not once been set to 
music. Some of the favorites have even 
received this honor as many as a dozen 
times. Pick up any school reader published 



Introduction xiii 

in England, in the United States, in Canada, 
Australia, Cape Colony or New Zealand and 
you are sure to find one or more of these 
shy, tender and unpretentious masterpieces. 
Wherever English is spoken, and that is now 
as far reaching as the world itself, there are 
little children culling flowers from Steven- 
son's garden and weaving his thoughts and 
fancies into the round of their tiny lives. 

Under these circumstances it is natural to 
find some curiosity in respect to the author 
of this remarkable book. It has often been 
thought that he was a man surrounded by 
children ; that he gained his insight and ap- 
preciation by a constant contact with chil- 
dren ; that he played and romped with them, 
telling them stories and listening to the con- 
fidences they were so ready to pour into his 
ear. But so far from this being the case, 
Stevenson, on leaving his Edinburgh nur- 
sery, said goodbye to all the little children 
he was ever destined to know with the least 
degree of intimacy. The child of the 



xiv Introduction 

" Child's Garden " was Stevenson himself. 
The plays were his plays ; the dreams were 
his dreams ; the fears and fantasies were all 
his own. It is in this extraordinarily exact 
recollection of his childhood that we find the 
most compelling proof of his genius. We 
have all been children, but how few of us 
can recall our infancy with the intensity, the 
passion, the exquisite humor and pathos of 
Stevenson ! We are reminded in every line 
of what each one of us has long ago forgot- 
ten. We live again in the world of make- 
believe — of bears and pirates, Indians, hunt- 
ers and privateers. We tremble and we 
laugh with the inconsequent acceptance of 
all that comes, whether perishing in the 
wreck or glorying in sausages for tea. 

Stevenson, throughout his life, was never 
free from physical ills. His childhood itself 
was clouded with an unending succession of 
infantile ailments. Solitary at his nursery 
window he too often gazed out on the grey 
streets of his native city and longed for the 



Introduction xv 

brief spells of health when he was permit- 
ted to play with other children. In later 
years, it was always in periods of his greatest 
bodily distress that his childhood seemed to 
recur to him. When he was well he was 
too engrossed and busy a man to hark back 
to Colinton and Inverleith Terrace ; to the 
faces and fields that were ever so dear to 
him. But when he was condemned to the 
involuntary idleness of the sick-room, to 
long nights of sleeplessness and pain, to a 
convalescence often more intolerable than 
the course of the malady itself, it was then 
he returned, with the clearest memory and 
comprehension to the days of his own pre- 
carious infancy. 

There is an old diary of Stevenson's say- 
ings, kept by his loving mother from the 
time he could creep to the more responsible 
age of eight, that illustrates with a force and 
poignancy not to be improved' upon, the 
character of the little hero of the " Child's 
Garden." Here we have him from day to 



xvi Introduction 

day, portrayed to us in ink now dry for 
nearly fifty years, that ardent, brilliant, sickly 
child whose writings were later to become so 
imperishable a part of our literature. The 
extracts here drawn from the diary are neces- 
sarily few in number, but it is hoped that 
taken one with another, they will supply an 
interesting corollary to this edition, and help 
the reader to better understand the circum- 
stances of Robert Louis Stevenson's early 
childhood. 

1852.* 

August fill. — Mr. Constable says that Louis un- 
derstands pictures better than any child of his 
age that he ever saw. 

September. — Louis begins to be fond of stories, 
and sometimes asks to be told about the " big 
stick/' meaning Cain and Abel. That and 
Daniel among the " Growlies " are his fa- 
vorites. 

September 23d. — Louis knows all the story of Eva 
and Uncle Tom, besides a great many out of 
the Bible, including the flood and the burning 
bush. He remembers them wonderfully well. 

* Stevenson was born on November 13, 1850. 



Introduction xvii 

i853- 

April 15th. — Colinton Manse. Louis is so happy 
in dear grandpapa's house that he says he will 
not go home again. 

April 23d. — Home to-day. Louis is in great de- 
spair; his only comfort being that he will see 
Bo and Mary. 

May 20th. — Bridge of Allan. The servant in our 
lodgings thinks Louis should be " put in the 
papers " as something extraordinary. 

July 24th. — Louis's favorite occupation is " mak- 
ing a church." He makes a pulpit with a chair 
and stool; sits, and then stands up and sings 
by turns. 

August 4th. — Louis is delighted with the ruins of 
the Bishop's Palace, at St. Andrew's, and the 
story of " Candel Betel " and the bottle dun- 
geon. He gets a bit of paper, tied to a string, 
and, standing on a chair, shows the way the 
man shows the dungeon. 

December 3d. — Louis recited the first four lines of 
" On Linden " in great style, waving his hands 
and making a splendid bow at the end. 



xviii Introduction 

1854. 

January ifith. — Louis told about Pilgrim's Prog- 
ress much to his delight. 

January 21st. — Alan, Margaret, and Bob come to 
pay us a visit. When they got home, Bob 
told his sisters of the delights of Inverleith 
Terrace, where " there was only one dear 
child who was always good, a nurse who was 
never cross, and late dinners." 

January 24th. — Louis seems very tired. He came 
to me and said, " Do you think I'm looking 
very ill? " It turns out infantile remittent 
fever. 

January 31st. — Louis able to play with his bricks 
on a tea-tray in bed. 

1854. 

April iyth. — When Louis was drawing a picture 
he said, " I have drawed a man's body. Shall 
I do his soul now? " 

April ipth. — When he was shown a bird's nest he 
said, " There were little birdies in the nest and 
eggies for them to eat." 

June 26th. — Louis and I were talking about 
Heaven and golden harps, and he said, " But 
I'm afraid I couldn't play nicely on my one." 



Introduction xix 

December 2d. — Home from Morningside, where 
we had been a month on Louis's account. He 
said, " He was glad to get home, as we had not 
a nice sideboard at Morningside. It just had 
a place for setting things on, and then an- 
other place for setting things on, and that was 
all." 

December 8th. — Louis said, " You can never be 
good unless you pray." When asked how he 
knew, he said " Because I've tried it." 

December nth. — Louis is improving, but requires 
to be kept very quiet. When forbidden to run 
about with one of his cousins he looked 
thoughtful for a minute, then threw a toy 
which he had in his hand, and said, with great 
indignation, " I can't be bothered with such 
fiddle-de-dee and nonsense." 

December 22d. — Lou prays every night of his own 
accord that God will bless the poor soldiers 
that are fighting at Sebastopol. 

December 25th. — Louis got a sword for his Christ- 
mas present. When Tom was disparaging it 
he said, " I can tell you, papa, it's a silver 
sword and a gold sheath, and the boy's very 
well-off and quite contented."" 



xx Introduction 

1855. 

January 2d. — Louis asked to have his name put 
on a book. I said, " Mr. Lou is on it." He 
replied, " Oh! but you must put it's his book 
or somebody will say och-och-och, Mr. Lou 
has been writing his name on one of his papa's 
books." 

January pth. — When made to wear a shawl above 
his sword he was in distress for fear it would 
not look like a soldier, and then said, " Do 
you think it will look like a night march, 
mamma? " 

January 16th. — Cummy was climbing the ladder 
to-day to hang up Dicky, and told Lou to 
hold it for her. It gave way, and began to 
sag. " It's too heavy, it's too heavy," he shout- 
ed, but he did not let go his hold, but clutched 
at Cummy's gown to keep her from falling. 

February 15U1. — Lou is quite mad on the subject 
of soldiers and the war. He prays night and 
morning for " our poor soldiers that are fight- 
ing at Sebastopol and that they may get the 
victory." 

February 23d. — Cummy was ill and went home 
for a change, and I had influenza and was con- 
fined to bed; so Lou was very much alone. 



Introduction xxi 

He spent most of his time in coloring the 
pictures in papers with colored chalks. One 
day when his Aunt Warden went in to see him 
she asked if he did not weary all alone. He 
replied, " Oh, no; I'm always doing some- 
thing you know." 

September ist. — Louis's poetry: 

" No sun is in the sky 
While night comes on, 
Then stars and moon come out. 
And then another day 
The sun comes out again. " 

1856. 

January 18th. — Louis takes scarlatina. 

February 5th. — Dear, wee Lou prayed, among 
other things, " That God would be very near 
every person that was not very well." 

February 17th. — When I asked Lou what he had 
been doing he said, " I've been playing all day 
— at least, I've been making myself cheerful." 

March 25th. — Louis goes for dancing. Joe pro- 
nounced him stupid, and gave him several 
blows with the fiddlestick. Poor Louis looked 
at Cummy but did not cry. When Mrs. 
V/arden asked him how he liked the dancing 
he said, " It was rather disappointing." He 



xxii Introduction 

took cold after the lesson and was not able to 
go back. 

November 13th. — Louis's sixth birthday. He was 
given a toy theatre, and he and Bobbie set to 
work to paint the scenes with great eagerness. 

November 23d. — Louis begins to-day to dictate a 
history of Moses, to try for a prize which 
Uncle David is to give for the best. 

December 21st. — Lou finishes his history of Moses 
to-day. He dictated every word himself on 
Sunday evenings. 

December 2jtJi. — Lou got a Bible picture-book, 
the prize for his Moses, and was greatly 
charmed. When he got it he said, " But I 
didn't deserve it." 

1857. 

February 20th. — Louis was taken to Colinton be- 
cause he was ill. 

April iotlu — Take Lou to Bridge of Allan; take 
Mrs. Haldane's lodgings, where Lou is very 
happy with his gun. When Mrs. Warden saw 
him crouching behind a bush in the garden 
and asked what he was doing he said, " I'm 
hunting blawbacks." Auntie had been read- 
ing Mayne Reid's books to him. 



Introduction xxiii 

May nth. — At Aberdown. Louis is improving 
very much. He is getting very wild and like a 
boy. 

November 13th. — Dear Louis spends his seventh 
birthday in bed, but he is much comforted by 
the companionship of his Skye terrier, called 
Coolin, which arrived lately from the west 
coast. 

1859. 

January 10th. — Louis — " The churches are much 
to blame for not sending missionaries to con- 
vert the Arabs." 

Mamma — " But if people won't go, what 
can the churches do? Will you go when you 
are big? " 

Louis — " I think you forget one word need- 
ful: if I'm spared." 

January 18th. — To-day Lou drew a picture of Sir 
Henry Havelock praying, which he sent to 
David Alan before his papa had seen it. When 
he heard that I was vexed he drew tw 7 o others, 
but neither was so good as the first. The next 
time I saw him he said, " I'm blamed for kind- 
ness and get no encouragement for endeavor." 

February 2d. — Lou has been better and worse 
since the 13th ult. 



XXIV 



Introduction 



February 6th. — When Tom went into the nursery 
at 12 p.m., Louis was wide awake and said, 
" You see I have very bad nights, papa, I'm 
always thankful when the morning comes." 





A CHILD'S GAR) )EN OF VERSES 



^uJL 




A CHILD'S GARDEN 
OF VERSES 

BED IN SUMMER 

In winter I get up at night 
And dress by yellow candle-light. 
In summer, quite the other way, 
I have to go to bed by day. 

I have to go to bed and see 
The birds still hopping on the tree, 
Or hear the grown-up people's feet 
Still going past me in the street. 

And does it not seem hard to you, 
When all the sky is clear and blue, 
And I should like so much to play, 
To have to go to bed by day? 



A Child's Garden of Verses 



A THOUGHT 

It is very nice to think 
The world is full of meat and drink, 
With little children saying grace 
In every Christian kind of place. 



AT THE SEA-SIDE 

When I was down beside the sea 
A wooden spade they gave to me 
To dig the sandy shore. 

My holes were empty like a cup. 
In every hole the sea came up, 
Till it could come no more. 



Whole Duty of Children 



YOUNG NIGHT THOUGHT 

All night long and every night, 
When my mamma puts out the light, 
I see the people marching by, 
As plain as day, before my eye. 

Armies and emperors and kings, 
All carrying different kinds of things, 
And marching in so grand a way, 
You never saw the like by day. 

So fine a show was never seen 
At the great circus on the green; 
For every kind of beast and man 
Is marching in that caravan. 

At first they move a little slow, 
But still the faster on they go, 
And still beside them close I keep 
Until we reach the town of Sleep. 



)M 



WHOLE DUTY OF CHILDREN 

A child should always say what 's true 
And speak when he is spoken to, 
And behave mannerly at table; 
At least as far as he is able. 



A Child's Garden of Verses 

RAIN 

The rain is raining all around, 
It falls on field and tree, 

It rains on the umbrellas here, 
And on the ships at sea. 



PIRATE STORY 

Three of us afloat in the meadow by the swing, 

Three of us aboard in the basket on the lea. 
Winds are in the air, they are blowing in the 
spring, 
And waves are on the meadow like the waves 
there are at sea. 

Where shall we adventure, to-day that we 're 
afloat, 

Wary of the weather and steering by a star? 
Shall it be to Africa, a-steering of the boat, 

To Providence, or Babylon, or off to Malabar? 

Hi ! but here 's a squadron a-rowing on the sea — 

Cattle on the meadow a-charging with a roar ! 

Quick, and we '11 escape them, they 're as mad as 

they can be, 

The wicket is the harbour and the garden is 

the shore. 




Copyright 1895, by Charles Scribner^s Sons. 



Foreign Lands 



FOREIGN LANDS 

Up into the cherry tree 

Who should climb but little me? 

I held the trunk with both my hands 

And looked abroad on foreign lands. 

I saw the next door garden lie, 
Adorned with flowers, before my eye, 
And many pleasant places more 
That I had never seen before. 

I saw the dimpling river pass 
And be the sky's blue looking-glass; 
The dusty roads go up and down 
With people tramping in to town. 

If I could find a higher tree 
Farther and farther I should see, 
To where the grown-up river slips 
Into the sea among the ships, 

To where the roads on either hand 
Lead onward into fairy land, 
Where all the children dine at five, 
And all the playthings come alive. 



A Child's Garden of Verses 



WINDY NIGHTS 

Whenever the moon and stars are set, 
Whenever the wind is high, 

All night long in the dark and wet, 
A man goes riding by. 

Late in the night when the fires are out, 

Why does he gallop and gallop about? 

Whenever the trees are crying aloud, 
And ships are tossed at sea, 

By, on the highway, low and loud, 
By at the gallop goes he. 

By at the gallop he goes, and then 

By he comes back at the gallop again. 



Travel g 



TRAVEL 

I should like to rise and go 

Where the golden apples grow; — 

Where below another sky 

Parrot islands anchored lie, 

And, watched by cockatoos and goats, 

Lonely Crusoes building boats; — 

Where in sunshine reaching out 

Eastern cities, miles about, 

Are with mosque and minaret 

Among sandy gardens set, 

And the rich goods from near and far 

Hang for sale in the bazaar; — 

Where the Great Wall round China goes, 

And on one side the desert blows, 

And with bell and voice and drum, 

Cities on the other hum; — 

Where are forests, hot as fire, 

Wide as England, tall as a spire, 

Full of apes and cocoa-nuts 

And the negro hunters' huts; — 

Where the knotty crocodile 

Lies and blinks in the Nile, 

And the red flamingo flies 

Hunting fish before his eyes; — 



IO A Child s Garden of Verses 

Where in jungles, near and far, 
Man-devouring tigers are, 
Lying close and giving ear 
Lest the hunt be drawing near, 
Or a comer-by be seen 
Swinging in a palanquin; — 
Where among the desert sands 
Some deserted city stands, 
All its children, sweep and prince, 
Grown to manhood ages since, 
Not a foot in street or house, 
Not a stir of child or mouse, 
And when kindly falls the night, 
In all the town no spark of light. 
There I '11 come when I'ma man 
With a camel caravan; 
Light a fire in the gloom 
Of some dusty dining room; 
See the pictures on the walls, 
Heroes, fights and festivals; 
And in a corner find the toys 
Of the old Egyptian boys. 



Looking Forward 1 1 



SINGING 

Of speckled eggs the birdie sings 
And nests among the trees; 

The sailor sings of ropes and things 
In ships upon the seas. 

The children sing in far Japan, 
The children sing in Spain; 

The organ with the organ man 
Is singing in the rain. 



LOOKING FORWARD 

When I am grown to man's estate 
I shall be very proud and great, 
And tell the other girls and boys 
Not to meddle with my toys. 



12 A Child's Garden of Verses 



A GOOD PLAY 

We built a ship upon the stairs 
All made of the back-bedroom chairs, 
And filled it full of sofa pillows 
To go a-sailing on the billows. 

We took a saw and several nails, 
And water in the nursery pails; 
And Tom said, " Let us also take 
An apple and a slice of cake "; — 
Which was enough for Tom and me 
To go a-sailing on, till tea. 

We sailed along for days and days, 
And had the very best of plays; 
But Tom fell out and hurt his knee, 
So there was no one left but me. 



Where Go the Boats? 13 



WHERE GO THE BOATS? 

Dark brown is the river, 

Golden is the sand. 
It flows along for ever, 

With trees on either hand. 

Green leaves a-floating, 

Castles of the foam, 
Boats of mine a-boating — 

Where will all come home? 

On goes the river 

And out past the mill, 
Away down the valley, 

Away down the hill. 

Away down the river, 
A hundred miles or more, 

Other little children 

Shall bring my boats ashore. 



14 A Child's Garden of Verses 



AUNTIE'S SKIRTS 

Whenever Auntie moves around, 
Her dresses make a curious sound, 
They trail behind her up the floor, 
And trundle after through the door. 



THE LAND OF COUNTERPANE 

When I was sick and lay a-bed, 
I had two pillows at my head, 
And all my toys beside me lay 
To keep me happy all the day. 

And sometimes for an hour or so 

I watched my leaden soldiers go, 

With different uniforms and drills, 

Among the bed-clothes, through the hills; 

And sometimes sent my ships in fleets 
All up and down among the sheets; 
Or brought my trees and houses out, 
And planted cities all about. 

I was the giant great and still 
That sits upon the pillow-hill, 
And sees before him, dale and plain, 
The pleasant Land of Counterpane. 



The Land of Nod 1 5 



THE LAND OF NOD 

From breakfast on through all the day 
At home among my friends I stay, 
But every night I go abroad 
Afar into the Land of Nod. 

All by myself I have to go, 

With none to tell me what to do — 

All alone beside the streams 

And up the mountain-sides of dreams. 

The strangest things are there for me, 
Both things to eat and things to see, 
And many frightening sights abroad 
Till morning in the Land of Nod. 

Try as I like to find the way, 
I never can get back by day, 
Nor can remember plain and clear 
The curious music that I hear. 



1 6 A Child's Garden of Verses 



MY SHADOW 

I have a little shadow that goes in and out with 

me, 
And what can be the use of him is more than I 

can see. 
He is very, very like me from the heels up to 

the head; 
And I see him jump before me, when I jump into 

my bed. 

The funniest thing about him is the way he likes 
to grow — 

Not at all like proper children, which is always 
very slow; 

For he sometimes shoots up taller like an india- 
rubber ball, 

And he sometimes gets so little that there 's none 
of him at all. 

He has n't got a notion of how children ought 

to play, 
And can only make a fool of me in every sort 

of way. 
He stays so close beside me, he 's a coward you 

can see; 
I 'd think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow 

sticks to me! 



System 1 7 

One morning, very early, before the sun w*s up, 

I rose and found the shining dew on every but- 
tercup; 

But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy- 
head, 

Had stayed at home behind me and was fast 
asleep in bed. 



SYSTEM 



Every night my prayers I say, 
And get my dinner every day; 
And every day that I 've been good, 
I get an orange after food. 

The child that is not clean and neat, 
With lots of toys and things to eat, 
He is a naughty child, I 'm sure — 
Or else his dear papa is poor. 



1 8 A Child's Garden of Verses 



A GOOD BOY 

I woke before the morning, I was happy all the 

day, 
I never said an ugly word, but smiled and stuck 

to play. 

And now at last the sun is going down behind 

the wood, 
And I am very happy, for I know that I 've been 

good. 

My bed is waiting cool and fresh, with linen 

smooth and fair, 
And I must off to sleepsin-by, and not forget my 

prayer. 

I know that, till to-morrow I shall see the sun 

arise, 
No ugly dream shall fright my mind, no ugly 

sight my eyes. 

But slumber hold me tightly till I waken in the 

dawn, 
And hear the thrushes singing in the lilacs round 

the lawn. 



Escape at Bedtime 19 



ESCAPE AT BEDTIME 

The lights from the parlour and kitchen shone 
out 
Through the blinds and the windows and bars; 
And high overhead and all moving about, 

There were thousands of millions of stars. 
There ne'er were such thousands of leaves on a 
tree, 
Nor of people in church or the Park, 
As the crowds of the stars that looked down upon 
me, 
And that glittered and winked in the dark. 

The Dog, and the Plough, and the Hunter, and 
all, 

And the star of the sailor, and Mars, 
These shone in the sky, and the pail by the wall 

Would be half full of water and stars. 
They saw me at last, and they chased me with 
cries, 

And they soon had me packed into bed; 
But the glory kept shining and bright in my eyes, 

And the stars going round in my head. 



20 A Child's Garden of Verses 



MARCHING SONG 

Bring the comb and play upon it! 

Marching, here we come ! 
Willie cocks his Highland bonnet, 

Johnnie beats the drum. 

Mary Jane commands the party, 

Peter leads the rear; 
Feet in time, alert and hearty, 

Each a Grenadier ! 

All in the most martial manner 

Marching double-quick; 
While the napkin like a banner 

Waves upon the stick ! 

Here 's enough of fame and pillage, 

Great commander Jane ! 
Now that we Ve been round the village, 

Let 's go home again. 



Happy Thought 2 1 



THE COW 

The friendly cow all red and white, 

I love with all my heart : 
She gives me cream with all her might, 

To eat with apple-tart. 

She wanders lowing here and there, 

And yet she cannot stray, 
All in the pleasant open air, 

The pleasant light of day; 

And blown by all the winds that pass 
And wet with all the showers, 

She walks among the meadow grass 
And eats the meadow flowers. 



HAPPY THOUGHT 

The world is so full of a number of things, 
I 'm sure we should all be as happy as kings. 



22 A Child's Garden of Verses 



THE WIND 

I saw you toss the kites on high 
And blow the birds about the sky; 
And all around I heard you pass, 
Like ladies' skirts across the grass — 
O wind, a-blowing all day long, 
O wind, that sings so loud a song ! 

I saw the different things you did, 
But always you yourself you hid. 
I felt you push, I heard you call, 
I could not see yourself at all — 

O wind, a-blowing all day long, 
O wind, that sings so loud a song ! 

O you that are so strong and cold, 
O blower, are you young or old? 
Are you a beast of field and tree, 
Or just a stronger child than me? 
O wind, a-blowing all day long, 
O wind, that sings so loud a song ! 



Keepsake Mill 23 

KEEPSAKE MILL 

Over the borders, a sin without pardon, 
Breaking the branches and crawling below, 

Out through the breach in the wall of the garden, 
Down by the banks of the river, we go. 

Here is the mill with the humming of thunder, 
Here is the weir with the wonder of foam, 

Here is the sluice with the race running under — - 
Marvellous places, though handy to home ! 

Sounds of the village grow stiller and stiller, 
Stiller the note of the birds on the hill; 

Dusty and dim are the eyes of the miller, 
Deaf are his ears with the moil of the mill. 

Years may go by, and the wheel in the river 
Wheel as it wheels for us, children, to-day, 

Wheel and keep roaring and foaming for ever 
Long after all of the boys are away. 

Home from the Indies and home from the ocean, 
Heroes and soldiers we all shall come home; 

Still we shall find the old mill wheel in motion, 
Turning and churning that river to foam. 

You with the bean that I gave when we quar- 
relled, 

I with your marble of Saturday last, 
Honoured and old and all gaily apparelled, 

Here we shall meet and remember the past. 



24 A Child's Garden of Verses 



GOOD AND BAD CHILDREN 

Children, you are very little, 
And your bones are very brittle; 
If you would grow great and stately, 
You must try to walk sedately. 

You must still be bright and quiet, 
And content with simple diet; 
And remain, through all bewild'ring, 
Innocent and honest children. 

Happy hearts and happy faces, 
Happy play in grassy places — 
That was how, in ancient ages, 
Children grew to kings and sages. 

But the unkind and the unruly, 
And the sort who eat unduly, 
They must never hope for glory — 
Theirs is quite a different story ! 

Cruel children, crying babies, 
All grow up as geese and gabies, 
Hated, as their age increases, 
By their nephews and their nieces. 



Foreign Children 25 



FOREIGN CHILDREN 

Little Indian, Sioux or Crow, 

Little frosty Eskimo, 

Little Turk or Japanee, 

O ! don't you wish that you were me? 

You have seen the scarlet trees 
And the lions over seas; 
You have eaten ostrich eggs, 
And turned the turtles off their legs. 

Such a life is very fine, 
But it 's not so nice as mine : 
You must often, as you trod, 
Have wearied not to be abroad. 

You have curious things to eat, 
I am fed on proper meat; 
You must dwell beyond the foam, 
But I am safe and live at home. 

Little Indian, Sioux or Crow, 

Little frosty Eskimo, 

Little Turk or Japanee, 
O ! don't you wish that you were me? 



26 A Child's Garden of Verses 



THE SUN'S TRAVELS 

The sun is not a-bed, when I 

At night upon my pillow lie; 

Still round the earth his way he takes, 

And morning after morning makes. 

While here at home, in shining day, 
We round the sunny garden play, 
Each little Indian sleepy-head 
Is being kissed and put to bed. 

And when at eve I rise from tea, 
Day dawns beyond the Atlantic Sea; 
And all the children in the West 
Are getting up and being dressed. 



The Lamplighter 27 



THE LAMPLIGHTER 

My tea is nearly ready and the sun has left the 

sky; 
It 's time to take the window to see Leerie going 

by; 
For every night at tea-time and before you take 

your seat, 
With lantern and with ladder he comes posting 

up the street. 

Now Tom would be a driver and Maria go to sea, 
And my papa 's a banker and as rich as he can be; 
But I, when I am stronger and can choose what 

I 'm to do, 
O Leerie, I '11 go round at night and light the 

lamps with you ! 

For we are very lucky, with a lamp before the 
door, 

And Leerie stops to light it as he lights so many 
more; 

And O ! before you hurry by with ladder and with 
light; 

O Leerie, see a little child and nod to him to- 
night ! 



28 A Child's Garden of Verses 



MY BED IS A BOAT 

My bed is like a little boat; 

Nurse helps me in when I embark; 
She girds me in my sailor's coat 

And starts me in the dark. 

At night, I go on board and say- 
Good night to all my friends on shore; 

I shut my eyes and sail away 
And see and hear no more. 

And sometimes things to bed I take, 
As prudent sailors have to do; 

Perhaps a slice of wedding-cake, 
Perhaps a toy or two. 

All night across the dark we steer; 

But when the day returns at last, 
Safe in my room, beside the pier, 

I find my vessel fast. 



The Moon 29 



THE MOON 

The moon has a face like a clock in the hall; 
She shines on thieves on the garden wall, 
On streets and fields and harbour quays, 
And birdies asleep in the forks of the trees. 

The squalling cat and the squeaking mouse, 
The howling dog by the door of the house, 
The bat that lies in bed at noon, 
All love to be out by the light of the moon. 

But all of the things that belong to the day 
Cuddle to sleep to be out of her way; 
And flowers and children close their eyes 
Till up in the morning the sun shall arise. 



30 A Child's Garden of Verses 



THE SWING 

How do you like to go up in a swing, 

Up in the air so blue? 
Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing 

Ever a child can do ! 

Up in the air and over the wall, 

Till I can see so wide, 
Rivers and trees and cattle and all 

Over the countryside — 

Till I look down on the garden green, 
Down on the roof so brown — 

Up in the air I go flying again, 
Up in the air and down ! 



TIME TO RISE 

A birdie with a yellow bill 
Hopped upon the window sill, 
Cocked his shining eye and said : 
" Aint you 'shamed, you sleepy-head ! " 



Looking-Glass River 31 

LOOKING-GLASS RIVER 

Smooth it slides upon its travel, 
Here a wimple, there a gleam — 
O the clean gravel ! 
O the smooth stream ! 

Sailing blossoms, silver fishes, 
Paven pools as clear as air — 
How a child wishes 
To live down there ! 

We can see our coloured faces 
Floating on the shaken pool 
Down in cool places, 
Dim and very cool; 

Till a wind or water wrinkle, 

Dipping marten, plumping trout, 
Spreads in a twinkle 
And blots all out. 

See the rings pursue each other; 
All below grows black as night, 
Just as if mother 
Had blown out the light ! 

Patience, children, just a minute — 
See the spreading circles die; 
The stream and all in it 
Will clear by-and-by. 



32 A Child's Garden of Verses 

FAIRY BREAD 

Come up here, O dusty feet ! 
Here is fairy bread to eat. 
Here in my retiring room, 

Children, you may dine 
On the golden smell of broom 

And the shade of pine; 
And when you have eaten well, 
Fairy stories hear and tell. 



FROM A RAILWAY CARRIAGE 

Faster than fairies, faster than witches, 

Bridges and houses, hedges and ditches; 

And charging along like troops in a battle, 

All through the meadows the horses and cattle : 

All of the sights of the hill and the plain 

Fly as thick as driving rain; 

And ever again, in the wink of an eye, 

Painted stations w^histle by. 

Here is a child who clambers and scrambles, 

All by himself and gathering brambles; 

Here is a tramp who stands and gazes; 

And there is the green for stringing the daisies! 

Here is a cart run away in the road 

Lumping along with man and load; 

And here is a mill and there is a river : 

Each a glimpse and gone for ever ! 



Winter- Time 3 3 



WINTER-TIME 

Late lies the wintry sun a-bed, 
A frosty, fiery sleepy-head; 
Blinks but an hour or two; and then, 
A blood-red orange, sets again. 

Before the stars have left the skies, 
At morning in the dark I rise; 
And shivering in my nakedness, 
By the cold candle, bathe and dress. 

Close by the jolly fire I sit 
To warm my frozen bones a bit; 
Or with a reindeer-sled, explore 
The colder countries round the door. 

When to go out, my nurse doth wrap 
Me in my comforter and cap; 
The cold wind burns my face, and blows 
Its frosty pepper up my nose. 

Black are my steps on silver sod; 
Thick blows my frosty breath abroad; 
And tree and house, and hill and lake, 
Are frosted like a wedding-cake. 



34 A Child's Garden of Verses 



THE HAYLOFT 

Through all the pleasant meadow-side 

The grass grew shoulder-high, 
Till the shining scythes went far and wide 

And cut it down to dry. 

These green and sweetly smelling crops 

They led in waggons home; 
And they piled them here in mountain tops 

For mountaineers to roam. 

Here is Mount Clear, Mount Rusty-Nail, 
Mount Eagle and Mount High; — 

The mice that in these mountains dwell, 
No happier are than I ! 

O what a joy to clamber there, 

O what a place for play, 
With the sweet, the dim, the dusty air, 

The happy hills of hay ! 



Farewell to the Farm 35 



FAREWELL TO THE FARM 

The coach is at the door at last; 
The eager children, mounting fast 
And kissing hands, in chorus sing: 
Good-bye, good-bye, to everything ! 

To house and garden, field and lawn, 
The meadow-gates we swang upon, 
To pump and stable, tree and swing, 
Good-bye, good-bye, to everything ! 

And fare you well for evermore, 
O ladder at the hayloft door, 
O hayloft where the cobwebs cling, 
Good-bye, good-bye, to everything! 

Crack goes the whip, and off we go; 
The trees and houses smaller grow; 
Last, round the woody turn we swing: 
Good-bye, good-bye, to everything ! 



36 A Child's Garden of Verses 

NORTH-WEST PASSAGE 

1. Good Night 

When the bright lamp is carried in, 
The sunless hours again begin; 
O'er all without, in field and lane, 
The haunted night returns again. 

Now we behold the embers flee 
About the firelit hearth; and see 
Our faces painted as we pass, 
Like pictures, on the window-glass. 

Must we to bed indeed? Well then, 
Let us arise and go like men, 
And face with an undaunted tread 
The long black passage up to bed. 

Farewell, O brother, sister, sire ! 
O pleasant party round the fire ! 
The songs you sing, the tales you tell, 
Till far to-morrow, fare ye well ! 

2. Shadow March 

All round the house is the jet-black night; 

It stares through the window-pane; 
It crawls in the corners, hiding from the light, 

And it moves with the moving flame. 



North- West Passage $7 

Now my little heart goes a-beating like a drum, 
With the breath of the Bogie in my hair; 

And all round the candle the crooked shadows 
come, 
And go marching along up the stair. 

The shadow of the balusters, the shadow of the 
lamp, 
The shadow of the child that goes to bed — 
All the wicked shadows coming, tramp, tramp, 
tramp, 
With the black night overhead. 



3. In Port 

Last, to the chamber where I lie 
My fearful footsteps patter nigh, 
And come from out the cold and gloom 
Into my warm and cheerful room. 

There, safe arrived, we turn about 
To keep the coming shadows out, 
And close the happy door at last 
On all the perils that we past. 

Then, when mamma goes by to bed, 
She shall come in with tip-toe tread, 
And see me lying warm and fast 
And in the Land of Nod at last. 




c*y 




THE CHILD ALONE 




THE UNSEEN PLAYMATE 

When children are playing alone on the green, 
In comes the playmate that never was seen. 
When children are happy and lonely and good, 
The Friend of the Children comes out of the 
wood. 

Nobody heard him and nobody saw, 

His is a picture you never could draw, 

But he 's sure to be present, abroad or at home, 

When children are happy and playing alone. 

He lies in the laurels, he runs on the grass, 
He sings when you tinkle the musical glass; 
Whene'er you are happy and cannot tell why, 
The Friend of the Children is sure to be by ! 

He loves to be little, he hates to be big, 
'T is he that inhabits the caves that you dig; 
'T is he when you play with your soldiers of tin 
That sides with the Frenchmen and never can 
win. 

41 



42 A Child's Garden of Verses 

'T is he, when at night you go off to your bed, 
Bids you go to your sleep and not trouble your 

head; 
For wherever they 're lying, in cupboard or shelf, 
Tis he will take care of your playthings himself ! 



MY SHIP AND I 

O it 's I that am the captain of a tidy little ship, 

Of a ship that goes a-sailing on the pond; 
And my ship it keeps a-turning all around and 

all about; 
But when I'ma little older, I shall find the secret 
out 
How to send my vessel sailing on beyond. 

For I mean to grow as little as the dolly at the 
helm, 
And the dolly I intend to come alive; 
And with him beside to help me, it 's a-sailing I 

shall go, 
It 's a-sailing on the water, when the jolly breezes 
blow 
And the vessel goes a divie-divie-dive. 

O it 's then you '11 see me sailing through the 
rushes and the reeds, 
And you '11 hear the water singing at the prow; 



My Kingdom 43 

For beside the dolly sailor, I 'm to voyage and 
explore, 

To land upon the island where no dolly was be- 
fore, 
And to fire the penny cannon in the bow. 



MY KINGDOM 

Down by a shining water well 
I found a very little dell, 

No higher than my head. 
The heather and the gorse about 
In summer bloom were coming out, 

Some yellow and some red. 

I called the little pool a sea; 
The little hills were big to me; 

For I am very small. 
I made a boat, I made a town, 
I searched the caverns up and down, 

And named them one and all. 

And all about was mine, I said, 
The little sparrows overhead, 

The little minnows too. 
This was the world and I was king; 
For me the bees came by to sing, 

For me the swallows flew. 



44 A Child's Garden of Verses 

I played there were no deeper seas, 
Nor any wider plains than these, 

Nor other kings than me. 
At last I heard my mother call 
Out from the house at evenfall, 

To call me home to tea. 

And I must rise and leave my dell, 
And leave my dimpled water well, 

And leave my heather blooms. 
Alas ! and as my home I neared, 
How very big my nurse appeared, 

How great and cool the rooms ! 




Picture-Books in Winter 45 



PICTURE-BOOKS IN WINTER 

Summer fading, winter comes — 
Frosty mornings, tingling thumbs, 
Window robins, winter rooks, 
And the picture story-books. 

Water now is turned to stone 
Nurse and I can walk upon; 
Still we find the flowing brooks 
In the picture story-books. 

All the pretty things put by, 
Wait upon the children's eye, 
Sheep and shepherds, trees and crooks, 
In the picture story-books. 

We may see how all things are 
Seas and cities, near and far, 
And the flying fairies' looks, 
In the picture story-books. 

How am I to sing your praise, 
Happy chimney-corner days, 
Sitting safe in nursery nooks, 
Reading picture story-books? 



46 A Chiles Garden of Verses 



MY TREASURES 

These nuts, that I keep in the back of the nest 
Where all my lead soldiers are lying at rest, 
Were gathered in autumn by nursie and me 
In a wood with a well by the side of the sea. 

This whistle we made (and how clearly it sounds !) 
By the side of a field at the end of the grounds. 
Of a branch of a plane, with a knife of my own, 
It was nursie who made it, and nursie alone ! 

The stone, with the white and the yellow and 

g^y, 
We discovered I cannot tell hozv far away; 
And I carried it back although weary and cold, 
For though father denies it, I 'm sure it is gold. 

But of all my treasures the last is the king, 

For there 's very few children possess such a 

thing; 
And that is a chisel, both handle and blade, 
Which a man who was really a carpenter made. 



Block City 47 



BLOCK CITY 

What are you able to build with your blocks? 
Castles and palaces, temples and docks. 
Rain may keep raining, and others go roam, 
But I can be happy and building at home. 

Let the sofa be mountains, the carpet be sea, 

There I '11 establish a city for me : 

A kirk and a mill and a palace beside, 

And a harbour as well where my vessels may ride. 

Great is the palace with pillar and wall, 
A sort of a tower on the top of it all, 
And steps coming down in an orderly way 
To where my toy vessels lie safe in the bay. 

This one is sailing and that one is moored : 
Hark to the song of the sailors on board ! 
And see on the steps of my palace, the kings 
Coming and going with presents and things ! 

Now I have done with it, down let it go ! 
All in a moment the town is laid low. 
Block upon block lying scattered and free, 
What is there left of my town by the sea? 

Yet as I saw it, I see it again, 
The kirk and the palace, the ships and the men, 
And as long as I live and where'ef I may be, 
I '11 always remember my town by the sea. 



48 A Child's Garden of Verses 



THE LAND OF STORY-BOOKS 

At evening when the lamp is lit, 
Around the fire my parents sit; 
They sit at home and talk and sing, 
And do not play at anything. 

Now, with my little gun, I crawl 
All in the dark along the wall, 
And follow round the forest track 
Away behind the sofa back. 

There, in the night, where none can spy, 
All in my hunter's camp I lie, 
And play at books that I have read 
Till it is time to go to bed. 

These are the hills, these are the woods, 
These are my starry solitudes; 
And there the river by whose brink 
The roaring lions come to drink. 

I see the others far away 
As if in firelit camp they lay, 
And I, like to an Indian scout, 
Around their party prowled about. 

So, when my nurse comes in for me, 
Home I return across the sea, 
And go to bed with backward looks 
At my dear Land of Story-books. 



Armies in the Fire 49 



ARMIES IN THE FIRE 

The lamps now glitter down the street; 
Faintly sound the falling feet; 
And the blue even slowly falls 
About the garden trees and walls. 

Now in the falling of the gloom 
The red fire paints the empty room : 
And warmly on the roof it looks, 
And flickers on the backs of books. 

Armies march by tower and spire 
Of cities blazing, in the fire; — 
Till as I gaze with staring eyes, 
The armies fade, the lustre dies. 

Then once again the glow returns; 
Again the phantom city burns; 
And down the red-hot valley, lo ! 
The phantom armies marching go ! 

Blinking embers, tell me true 
Where are those armies marching to, 
And what the burning city is 
That crumbles in vour furnaces ! 



50 A Child 's Garden of Verses 



THE LITTLE LAND 

When at home alone I sit 

And am very tired of it, 

I have just to shut my eyes 

To go sailing through the skies — 

To go sailing far away 

To the pleasant Land of Play; 

To the fairy land afar 

Where the Little People are; 

Where the clover-tops are trees, 

And the rain-pools are the seas, 

And the leaves like little ships 

Sail about on tiny trips; 

And above the daisy tree 

Through the grasses, 
High o'erhead the Bumble Bee 

Hums and passes. 

In that forest to and fro 
I can wander, I can go; 
See the spider and the fly, 
And the ants go marching by 
Carrying parcels with their feet 
Down the green and grassy street. 
I can in the sorrel sit 
Where the ladybird alit. 



The Little Land 51 

I can climb the jointed grass 

And on high 
See the greater swallows pass 

In the sky, 
And the round sun rolling by 
Heeding no such things as I. 

Through that forest I can pass 
Till, as in a looking-glass, 
Humming fly and daisy tree 
And my tiny self I see, 
Painted very clear and neat 
On the rain-pool at my feet. 
Should a leaflet come to land 
Drifting near to where I stand, 
Straight I '11 board that tiny boat 
Round the rain-pool sea to float. 

Little thoughtful creatures sit 
On the grassy coasts of it; 
Little things with lovely eyes 
See me sailing with surprise. 
Some are clad in armour green — 
(These have sure to battle been !) — 
Some are pied with ev'ry hue, 
Black and crimson, gold and blue; 
Some have wings and swift are gone; — 
But they all look kindly on. 



52 A Child's Garden of Verses 

When my eyes I once again 
Open, and see all things plain : 
High bare walls, great bare floor; 
Great big knobs on drawer and door; 
Great big people perched on chairs, 
Stitching tucks and mending tears, 
Each a hill that I could climb, 
And talking nonsense all the time — 

O dear me, 

That I could be 
A sailor on the rain-pool sea, 
A climber in the clover tree, 
And just come back, a sleepy-head, 
Late at night to go to bed. 




GARDEN DAYS 




dlb ^> 



NIGHT AND DAY 

When the golden day is done, 
Through the closing portal, 

Child and garden, flower and sun, 
Vanish all things mortal. 

As the blinding shadows fall 

As the rays diminish, 
Under evening's cloak, they all 

Roll away and vanish. 

Garden darkened, daisy shut, 
Child in bed, they slumber — 

Glow-worm in the highway rut, 
Mice among the lumber. 

In the darkness houses shine, 
Parents move with candles; 

Till on all, the night divine 
Turns the bedroom handles. 

Till at last the day begins 
In the east a-breaking, 

In the hedges and the whins 
Sleeping birds a-waking. 

55 



56 A Child's Garden of Verses 

In the darkness shapes of things, 
Houses, trees and hedges, 

Clearer grow; and sparrow's wings 
Beat on window ledges. 

These shall wake the yawning maid; 

She the door shall open — 
Finding dew on garden glade 

And the morning broken. 

There my garden grows again 
Green and rosy painted, 

As at eve behind the pane 
From my eyes it fainted. 

Just as it was shut away, 

Toy-like, in the even, 
Here I see it glow with day 

Under glowing heaven. 

Every path and every plot, 

Every bush of roses, 
Every blue forget-me-not 

Where the dew reposes, 

" Up ! " they cry, " the day is come 
On the smiling valleys : 

We have beat the morning drum; 
Playmate, join your allies ! " 



Nest Eggs 57 



NEST EGGS 

Birds all the sunny day 

Flutter and quarrel 
Here in the arbour-like 

Tent of the laurel. 

Here in the fork 

The brown nest is seated; 
Four little blue eggs 

The mother keeps heated. 

While we stand watching her, 

Staring like gabies, 
Safe in each egg are the 

Bird's little babies. 

Soon the frail eggs they shall 
Chip, and upspringing 

Make all the April woods 
Merry with singing. 

Younger than we are, 
O children, and frailer, 

Soon in blue air they '11 be, 
Singer and sailor. 



58 A Child's Garden of Verses 

We, so much older, 
Taller and stronger, 

We shall look down on the 
Birdies no longer. 

They shall go flying 
With musical speeches 

High overhead in the 
Tops of the beeches. 

In spite of our wisdom 
And sensible talking, 

We on our feet must go 
Plodding and walking. 




The Flowers 59 



THE FLOWERS 

All the names I know from nurse : 
Gardener's garters, Shepherd's purse, 
Bachelor's buttons, Lady's smock, 
And the Lady Hollyhock. 

Fairy places, fairy things, 

Fairy woods where the wild bee wings, 

Tiny trees for tiny dames — 

These must all be fairy names ! 

Tiny woods below whose boughs 
Shady fairies weave a house; 
Tiny tree-tops, rose or thyme, 
Where the braver fairies climb ! 

Fair are grown-up people's trees, 
But the fairest woods are these; 
Where if I were not so tall, 
I should live for good and all. 



6o A Child's Garden of Verses 



SUMMER SUN 

Great is the sun, and wide he goes 
Through empty heaven without repose; 
And in the blue and glowing days 
More thick than rain he showers his rays. 

Though closer still the blinds we pull 
To keep the shady parlour cool, 
Yet he will find a chink or two 
To slip his golden fingers through. 

The dusty attic spider-clad 
He, through the keyhole, maketh glad; 
And through the broken edge of tiles, 
Into the laddered hay-loft smiles. 

Meantime his golden face around 
He bares to all the garden ground, 
And sheds a warm and glittering look 
Among the ivy's inmost nook. 

Above the hills, along the blue, 
Round the bright air with footing true, 
To please the child, to paint the rose, 
The gardener of the World, he goes. 



The Dmnb Soldier 61 



THE DUMB SOLDIER 

When the grass was closely mown, 
Walking on the lawn alone, 
In the turf a hole I found 
And hid a soldier underground. 

Spring and daisies came apace; 
Grasses hide my hiding-place; 
Grasses run like a green sea 
O'er the lawn up to my knee. 

Under grass alone he lies, 
Looking up with leaden eyes, 
Scarlet coat and pointed gun, 
To the stars and to the sun. 

When the grass is ripe like grain, 
When the scythe is stoned again, 
When the lawn is shaven clear, 
Then my hole shall reappear. 

I shall find him, never fear, 

I shall find my grenadier; 

But for all that 's gone and -come, 

I shall find my soldier dumb. 



62 A Child's Garden of Verses 

He has lived, a little thing, 
In the grassy woods of spring; 
Done, if he could tell me true, 
Just as I should like to do. 

He has seen the starry hours 
And the springing of the flowers; 
And the fairy things that pass 
In the forests of the grass. 

In the silence he has heard 
Talking bee and ladybird, 
And the butterfly has flown 
O'er him as he lay alone. 

Not a word will he disclose, 
Not a word of all he knows. 
I must lay him on the shelf, 
And make up the tale myself. 




Autumn Fires 63 



AUTUMN FIRES 

In the other gardens 

And all up the vale, 
From the autumn bonfires 

See the smoke trail ! 

Pleasant summer over 

And all the summer flowers, 
The red fire blazes, 

The grey smoke towers. 

Sing a song of seasons ! 

Something bright in all ! 
Flowers in the summer, 

Fires in the fall ! 



64 A Child's Garden of Vej^ses 



THE GARDENER 

The gardener does not love to talk, 
He makes me keep the gravel walk; 
And when he puts his tools away, 
He locks the door and takes the key. 

Away behind the currant row 
Where no one else but cook may go, 
Far in the plots, I see him dig 
Old and serious, brown and big. 

He digs the flowers, green, red, and blue, 
Nor wishes to be spoken to. 
He digs the flowers and cuts the hay, 
And never seems to want to play. 

Silly gardener! summer goes, 
And winter comes with pinching toes, 
When in the garden bare and brown 
You must lay your barrow down. 

Well now, and while the summer stays, 
To profit by these garden days 
O how much wiser you would be 
To play at Indian wars with me ! 



Historical Associations 65 



HISTORICAL ASSOCIATIONS 

Dear Uncle Jim, this garden ground 
That now you smoke your pipe around, 
Has seen immortal actions done 
And valiant battles lost and won. 

Here we had best on tip-toe tread, 
While I for safety march ahead, 
For this is that enchanted ground 
Where all who loiter slumber sound. 

Here is the sea, here is the sand, 
Here is simple Shepherd's Land, 
Here are the fairy hollyhocks, 
And there are Ali Baba's rocks. 

But yonder, see ! apart and high, 
Frozen Siberia lies; where I, 
With Robert Bruce and William Tell, 
Was bound by an enchanter's spell. 




LofC. 




r^ 



ENVOYS 




TO WILLIE AND HENRIETTA 

If two may read aright 
These rhymes of old delight 
And house and garden play, 
You two, my cousins, and you only, may. 

You in a garden green 
With me were king and queen, 
Were hunter, soldier, tar, 
And all the thousand things that children are. 

Now in the elders' seat 
We rest with quiet feet, 
And from the window-bay 
We watch the children, our successors, play. 

" Time was," the golden head 
Irrevocably said; 
But time which none can bind, 
While flowing fast away, leaves love behind. 



69 



yo A Child's Garden of Verses 



TO MY MOTHER 

You too, my mother, read my rhymes 
For love of unforgotten times, 
And you may chance to hear once more 
The little feet along the floor. 



TO AUNTIE 

CHIEF of our aunts — not only I, 
But all your dozen of nurselings cry — 
What did the other children do? 
And what were childhood, wanting youf 



To Minnie ji 



TO MINNIE 

The red room with the giant bed 

Where none but elders laid their head; 

The little room where you and I 

Did for awhile together lie 

And, simple suitor, I your hand 

In decent marriage did demand; 

The great day nursery, best of all, 

With pictures pasted on the wall 

And leaves upon the blind — 

A pleasant room wherein to wake 

And hear the leafy garden shake 

And rustle in the wind — 

And pleasant there to lie in bed 

And see the pictures overhead — 

The wars about Sebastopol, 

The grinning guns along the wall, 

The daring esialade, 

The plunging y ships, the bleating sheep, 

The happy children ankle-deep 

And laughing as they wade : 

All these are vanished clean away, 
And the old manse is changed to-day; 



7 2 A Child's Garden of Verses 

It wears an altered face 

And shields a stranger race. 

The river, on from mill to mill, 

Flows past our childhood's garden still; 

But ah ! we children never more 

Shall watch it from the water-door ! 

Below the yew — it still is there — 

Our phantom voices haunt the air 

As we were still at play, 

And I can hear them call and say: 

" How far is it to Babylon? " 

Ah, far enough, my dear, 

Far, far enough from here — 

Yet you have farther gone ! 

" Can I get there by candlelight? " 

So goes the old refrain. 

I do not know — perchance you might — 

But only, children, hear it right, 

Ah, never to return again ! 

The eternal dawn, beyond a doubt, 

Shall break on hill and plain, 

And put all stars and candles out 

Ere we be young again. 

To you in distant India, these 
I send across the seas, 
Nor count it far across. 
For which of us ferrets 



To Minnie 



73 



The Indian cabinets, 

The bones of antelope, the wings of albatross, 

The pied and painted birds and beans, 

The junks and bangles, beads and screens, 

The gods and sacred bells, 

And the loud-humming, twisted shells ! 

The level of the parlour floor 

Was honest, homely, Scottish shore; 

But when we climbed upon a chair, 

Behold the gorgeous East was there ! 

Be this a fable; and behold 

Me in the parlour as of old, 

And Minnie just above me set 

In the quaint Indian cabinet! 

Smiling and kind, you grace a shelf 

Too high for me to reach myself. 

Reach down a hand, my dear, and take 

These rhymes for old acquaintance' sake ! 




74 A Child's Garden of Verses 



TO MY NAME-CHILD 



Some day soon this rhyming volume, if you learn 

with proper speed, 
Little Louis Sanchez, will be given you to read. 
Then shall you discover, that your name was 

printed down 
By the English printers, long before, in London 

town. 



In the great and busy city where the East and 

West are met, 
All the little letters did the English printer set; 
While you thought of nothing, and were still too 

young to play, 
Foreign people thought of you in places far away. 

Ay, and while you slept, a baby, over all the Eng- 
lish lands 

Other little children took the volume in their 
hands; 

Other children questioned, in their homes across 
the seas : 

Who was little Louis, won't you tell us, mother, 
please? 



To My Name-Child 75 



Now that you have spelt your lesson, lay it down 
and go and play, 

Seeking shells and seaweed on the sands of Mon- 
terey, 

Watching all the mighty whalebones, lying 
buried by the breeze, 

Tiny sandy-pipers, and the huge Pacific seas. 

And remember in your playing, as the sea-fog 

rolls to you, 
Long ere you could read it, how I told you what 

to do; 
And that while you thought of no one, nearly 

half the world away 
Some one thought of Louis on the beach of 

Monterey ! 




j6 A Child's Garden of Verses 



TO ANY READER 

As from the house your mother sees 
You playing round the garden trees, 
So you may see, if you will look 
Through the windows of this book, 
Another child, far, far away, 
And in another garden, play. 
But do not think you can at all, 
By knocking on the window, call 
That child to hear you. He intent 
Is all on his play-business bent. 
He does not hear; he will not look, 
Nor yet be lured out of this book. 
For, long ago, the truth to say, 
He has grown up and gone away, 
And it is but a child of air 
That lingers in the garden there. 



30 W 






V"° V 1 •'•- V 4? . 



<?► * • • ' 



•»'- %** #C# % *S .'&& \S 

-y c\ 




?A> ^o <£ •'fife*- % ^ ^W/V % / ^ 




W ,& "* 






> ^ 












* 4? <?• « 







c> *^77* A 








< f^fe ^/ 4a^>. V,* c .v^tofc. °. 




WBiT«pOKBWbING 



f°°, 



V 



> 1989 

Grantviile, PA 



r ,<v 



<".. 







* v ..'••« ^ 



f p* .<^% 



■ 



■ ^HH 



, ; 4 

m 






■ 






w 






■■ 



